


Rainbows of Mystery

by Lord_Mushroom_Kat



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: 2017, Basically, Eliza Webb the private detective, Eliza is Holmes, Eliza is gay, F/F, Like, Maggie Hart the murder mystery writer, Maggie is Watson, Maggie is bi, a world where the Sherlock Holmes books exist, and the two main characters are huge fangirls of it, be nice to my babies, except not, it's essentially a johnlock AU, it's in the modern era, queer romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-27 14:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10026485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Mushroom_Kat/pseuds/Lord_Mushroom_Kat
Summary: Okay, so it's like 2017. And the Sherlock Holmes books exist. And two women happen to be massive fangirls of the stories.Eliza Webb decided to be a private detective.Maggie Hart decided to be a murder mystery writer.They meet.It's pretty gay.





	1. Chapter 1

[Rainbows of Mystery](https://docs.google.com/document/d/12Oeci3YCncy9gB6QXPIpuIptqdjZSUmi8KAS6PROk8I/edit?usp=sharing)

The link to the whole work so far.

Google docs.

You can read and comment.

Okay? I might put the actual text in eventually.

I have a tumblr for them, too.

[@rainbows-of-mystery](https://rainbows-of-mystery.tumblr.com/)

Okay?

Be nice.


	2. The Heart Caught in the Web

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first story in the 'Rainbows of Mystery' series.  
> Maggie Hart the murder mystery writer and modern Holmesian woman meets fellow Holmesian and self-proclaimed consulting detective, Eliza Webb.  
> Gayness ensues.
> 
> (dedicated to the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle [ACD] Sherlock Holmes stories and the modern adaptation, BBC's 'Sherlock')
> 
> Johnlock inspired.

**The Heart Caught in the Web**

At the address 221b Baker Street in London, England resides The Sherlock Holmes Museum, a location for fanatics of the Sherlock Holmes books by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. “Holmesians” as they are sometimes called, come in all different varieties, from the mildly deranged ones who simply really like the stories to those who have structured their lives around the renowned adventures of Sherlock Holmes the Consulting Detective and his companion Dr. John Watson. The stories have, of course, inspired many different reactions and life-styles, however some are perhaps a bit more extreme. 

Take Maggie Hart, a modern Holmesian and beginning murder mystery writer. Her love of the stories has lead her down the path of creativity and sitting around all day thinking up ways to kill people. Naturally, her internet history is... suspicious to anyone who is not aware of her profession, but then again, she’s not the only one, but we’ll get to that later. At this moment, a new mystery novel is on the shelf due to Miss Hart, it won’t draw huge crowds, but at least she has a small following, not really enough to pay rent in London alone, though. Which is why Maggie is left in her flat wondering who would want to share a home with a person who possesses such morbid thoughts as she because her roommate, Amy has just moved out to live with her fiance and her rent is not exactly cheap. Standing in her kitchen, she is chopping something or another for a sort of experiment she’s running to test a thought she had about a murder method to include in a story some day. 

Unfortunately, aside from new methods with which to off people, she’s stock out of ideas for stories and she has little to no inspiration or motivation. She loves writing but, what with her current dilemma, she’s too busy trying to make herself write to actually write anything of worth. So there she stands in her kitchen, dark rusty colored hair tumbling forward in a messy bun, decked out in a purple bathrobe, dull green shirt, and striped pyjama pants, evergreen eyes transfixed by the knife in her pale cinnamon colored hand as she contemplates an end to her writing career. After all, what good is a writer with no ideas? As she begins to drift off further into the land of thought she’s interrupted from her musings by a cat wrapping itself around her calf. Startling a bit, she glances downward at her golden-brown striped tabby, Honeybee, smiles affectionately at the goofy fuzz-ball, sets down her knife, and leans over to lend her attention to “her darling little fluff-nugget” who, in turn, purrs affectionately. 

“Honeybee, what do you think? How will I manage? I could try to find a new flatmate, but even Amy didn’t really enjoy sharing this place with me and she and I have known each other forever! Oh well...”

At that particular moment, she remembered that she always felt most inspired in the library, and elected to head down to the nearest one. After re-dressing in outside-world appropriate attire, gathering her writing supplies in her bag, saying goodbye to Honeybee, snagging a cab to her favorite library, and arriving at said library, she immediately headed to the section of the library in which she knew the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle were kept. It was wandering this section that she bumped into a woman slightly taller than herself with striking light blue eyes, medium-brown boy-cut hair with a dramatic swish over her forehead, and slightly darkish skin with a golden tint to it. Who, she observed, was holding a Holmes book, wearing very masculine formal-looking clothing consisting of black trousers, a black vest with gold buttons matching her stud earrings, and, ironically, an extremely pale pink dress shirt, and looking as transfixed by her as she was by the stranger. She was snapped out of her assessment by a crisp, clear, and otherwise alluring low female voice.

“You are that mystery writer, Maggie Hart, are you not? You enjoy the Holmes stories like myself, I can tell in your novels that you were at least inspired by Sir Doyle’s works, the style is very reminiscent of his and you are very knowledgeable in your murder methods, explaining logic and reasoning expertly as if you can enter the minds of both murderers and detectives. In your bio you said that you own a cat, or rather it owns you as one cannot  _ really _ own a cat; I see this is true by the cat hairs on your legs, a golden-brown color it would seem, most probably tabby would be my guess as you seem far too reasonable to purchase a persian and the furrs are far too short for one anyway, so tabby it is. You appear to be stressed, I can tell from the dark circles under your eyes, either that or you just don’t sleep well anyway, but no, you also are acting anxious, you seem in a rush, and your hair is also messy, so yes, stressed. You once wrote in a forenote in a book,  _ Scarlet Honey _ , I believe, that you go to the library to find new ideas, so you’re short on ideas right now. I expect you are looking for a Holmes story or something like it although, there is really nothing truly like it, so I’ll get out of your way. My name is Eliza Webb, by the way, nice to meet you.” the stranger had announced, rapidly increasing the speed of her speech as her voice elegantly lilted in a vaguely Irish fashion.

The fascinating stranger then walked away leaving Maggie dazed, flushed, and struggling to catch up with what was going on, when her mind finally caught up, she turned right around and tried to locate the alluring woman with which she had, in a manner of speaking, just acquainted herself. However Eliza was already long gone, and so she attempted to move on with her prescribed activities, trying to put the entirely out-of-place interaction behind her, thinking that dwelling on the fleeting moment would do no good as London is a location of considerable size and she would likely never meet Eliza again. She retrieved some Holmes novels of her favorites and plopped down in a comfortable seat and began her process of reading, jotting ideas down, and bopping gently along to her calm lyric-less music which she listened to by way of headphones and smartphone. Or, she would have, if not for her spinning thoughts of the fascinating individual she’d met just moments ago. Really, this Eliza Webb was going to be occupying her thoughts until her petty little obsession passed on to far more likely candidates of relation. Still, the voice echoed in the back of her mind, and after sitting there for needless amounts of time without actually doing anything, Maggie resigned herself to returning the books and heading home to Honeybee.

The next day she returned to the library, feeling considerably more focused than she had the previous afternoon. She had managed to actually jot some reasonably okay ideas down and was returning her books when, yet again, she happened upon Eliza Webb. Feeling accomplished and therefore considerably more confident with herself she smiled brightly at the fascinating woman who, in turn, proceeded to look very much confused and even a little frightened. That was, however, soon replaced with a contemplative look as she cleared her throat and spoke.

“You’re back again, so you must be really strained for ideas, but you look more cheerful today so you must have gotten something worked out.” Eliza perceptively announces, then contemplatively tilts her head. “I wonder why you feel so obligated to write so soon after a new publication? Short on money? That would explain that, but I wonder why? It could be-” at which point, a confident Maggie interjected.

“Roommate moved out. I’ve rent to pay and a cat to look after, and I live in London.”

“Which would explain your insistence upon working despite the fair success of your current book, great stuff, by the way, loved it. I wonder why you don’t just find a new flatmate, though. Can’t be hard for someone of your astute character.” Now Maggie was definitely enraptured by this person, no getting out of it, she’d be stuck for a while. Then she remembered that this person knew her so little that they genuinely believed that locating a new flatmate would be easy for her. 

“Well actually... um...” was Maggie’s attempt at explaining her situation.

“You’re a writer, so you’ve probably got odd habits.” Eliza astutely interjected, helpfully supplying a simple explanation of her problem.

“Yeah.” Maggie affirmed lamely. Falling back on her previous discomfort with her life. When Eliza’s crisp voice interjected and drew her back out.

“Hmm... you’re a writer, in fact, a murder mystery writer, a good one too. You say you need a flatmate?” Maggie just nods in response, a bit too preoccupied by trying to work out what was going on to actually articulate anything like verbal language. “Well, I myself have been looking for a place to stay, I just moved out of a shared space with a person who irritates me more than I’d care to think, but I’ve got a fairly good understanding of you from your writing, so I think we’d get on just fine.” Okay, Maggie was definitely lost now, yesterday she’d met a fascinating, amazing, alluring person, and today said person was inquiring as to the possibility of sharing a residence due to her, apparently, agreeable personality. 

“Um... uh...” Maggie lamely verbalized her current thoughts.

“It’s okay if you’re not sure yet, we’re not exactly properly acquainted yet.” Eliza reassured Maggie, when she was struck by a bit of genius. “How about dinner?”

“What?” Maggie questions, bewildered and sure she’d misheard.

“Dinner. We can eat and get to know one another properly, perhaps discuss interests and arrangements.” Her head swimming, Maggie almost felt she was about to fall over, but if this alluring woman wanted to have dinner with her, who was she to argue?

“Alright then.” she said hesitantly.

Eliza’s face visibly lit up and she grabbed Maggie by the arm and rushed her out of the library to some unknown location of dining. When they reached their destination, it was one of Chinese food. She wasn’t quite sure how Eliza could have predicted that she’d been in the mood for that particular genre of cuisine lately, but resigned herself to acknowledging that perhaps Eliza was just that perceptive. It was only once they’d sat that awkwardness seemed to settle in, at least on Maggie’s part. Then her curiosity got the better of her and so she asked.

“So... what do you do with that cleverness of yours? You said you were a Holmes fan, I’m assuming it’s something related to that?” Eliza looked a little embarrassed, possibly a lot, and began to look around nervously before settling herself and looking intently at Maggie.

“Ah yes, well... it may be silly of me, but I’ve decided that I’m a consulting detective, I try to be anyway. Really, I’m more of a Private Detective. I’m not all that good, honestly. Nothing like Holmes.” Suddenly Maggie looked altogether up-in-arms and energized.

“Nonsense! You are quite clever! I saw it on both occasions I met you, you are very talented, you read me like a book! Truly! Perhaps you wouldn’t be any kind of a rival to Holmes, but you are certainly cleverer than you seem to think! You’re absolutely amazing!” 

Anyone watching this exchange would have seen Maggie getting more and more animated and Eliza getting more and more flushed. By the end of Maggie’s outburst, she was alight with passion and practically glowing, and Eliza’s cheeks, nose, and ears were burning red and she appeared to glow in a completely different way. Eliza, entirely embarrassed by being excessively complemented by a favorite author of hers and a person she greatly admired, turned her head to the side to hide her face and cleared her throat before forcing down her blush and turning back around, intent on diverting the conversation to discussion of living arrangements in the hopes of distraction from her embarrassment and the potential of further contact with this delightful person.

“So um... you er... if we’re to share a residence, which would appear to suit both our needs, um... you wouldn’t um... have any erm... significant other over on a regular basis would you? That would be... irritating for me, to say the least. Get in the way of my work.” Eliza stuttered inelegantly.

“Oh! Nonono! I’ve not got anyone! Um... what about you, I would be surprised if someone of your figure and mind didn’t have someone.”

“Oh uh..... I’m not really... um...” Recognizing how utterly lost for words Eliza looked, Maggie decided to simplify things for the brilliant wonder.

“So you haven’t a boyfriend?” Eliza wore an expression of confusion, which quickly slipped into one of distaste.

“Boyfriend... no, not really my...” she flutters her left hand around in a circular motion, searching for the proper wording “glass of tea...” She finished as best she could, given the topic of discussion at hand. Maggie felt she had a feeling what was going on, and she instantly became very interested. 

“Do you have a girlfriend, then? Which is fine, by the way.” Eliza flushed, looking quite shocked to be asked that particular question, but recovered quickly and replied in a mostly even voice.

“Good to know you think it’s fine but, no, I’ve not, I’m not really much the dating type.” Maggie wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that, but decided to drop it for now.

They ended up both eating a considerable amount and settled into very natural and interesting conversation. By the end of the evening, both decided that they were very much liking the other’s company, and Maggie had all but said that she’d be delighted if Eliza moved in with her. When they ended up going their separate ways, because Maggie had, swept up in the joy of conversation, failed to mention that Eliza could move in, Maggie headed back home and felt a combination of pleasantly exhausted and absolutely giddy as she spoke aloud to Honeybee about the amazing Eliza Webb whose mobile number was now in her smartphone. 

The following morning, Maggie awoke unusually well-rested and smiling, flipped on the news to discover that apparently there had been a murder in her favorite library. Immediately tuning in, she discovered upon further listening that the murder had taken place in her favorite section, too, next to the Holmes stories, with ‘Rache’ written on the bookshelf nearby in what initially looked like blood, imitating  _ A Study in Scarlet _ , but was actually written in red ink. Then her phone rang, and she was called in as a suspect due to her having been in that particular section for both of the two previous days, her being a known Holmes fanatic, and her aforementioned suspicious and murder-y internet history. She’d been asked many questions as to her whereabouts the previous evening and ended up sitting in the station long after they actually finished questioning her, mostly because their main two suspects’ only alibi was that they’d been in each other’s company. Incidentally, Eliza had been called in for questioning, too, mainly due to similar reasoning. Eventually the police released them, and they ended up going out to early lunch together and discussing the mysterious Holmesian-based murder that Eliza was determined to solve. 

“So what do you think of all this?” Maggie enthusiastically inquired to Eliza over her Reuben Sandwich and Chips. 

“The murder? Oh it’s a fascinating business, isn’t it? It was likely done by a fellow Holmesian, although one who followed a  _ slightly _ different path than you or I. Truly a fascination. Do you know of anyone in this area who holds the Holmes stories to that level of regard?”

“Afraid not, London is a place of considerable size.”

“So it is... “ Eliza seemed a bit discouraged before suddenly looking rather alight. “Oh!” she exclaimed in a manner that Maggie would be trying for a long time to forget “If one of us was to take to the internet and post something ludicrous to draw out our homicidal Holmesian then-!” Eliza was beginning to draw the eyes of a few fellow patrons with her loudly spoken potential strategies. 

“-Eliza,” Maggie interrupted cautiously and gently “has it occurred to you, that perhaps the murderer was not at all a Holmes fan and that the inclusion of Holmesian references is an elaborate distraction? A red herring, if you will?” she finished just as delicately, making an effort to not upset the fairly obviously self-conscious Eliza. 

Eliza looked shocked, she tried to stutter out a response before resigning herself to thinking about it. After a long, and, for Maggie, excruciating, moment, she seemed to reach some form of clarity.

“Oh.” Eliza quietly began, her voice calm and subdued “Thank you for pointing out that possibility, my mind began to run away with me...” she briefly trailed off, then remembered her earlier ideas and mentally cringed at her beginner's mistake of just assuming the relevance of a detail. “Sorry for, you know, going off on a random rant of-” she had begun to pick up volume again when Maggie kindly interjected.

“Shhh... It’s fine, I like your ideas, I just thought I’d give you my thought before you got too into yours.” 

“Oh.” Eliza smiles gently, eyes sparkling, because she really was right about this Maggie Hart, together they’d make a great duo. Maggie smiles back, glad that’s settled and moves on to another vein of conversation.

“Would you like to meet Honeybee?” Maggie says, voice quiet, but not in a self-conscious way, but in a private and intimate way, this is important, too important to include strangers in it.

“Wha...?” Eliza looks dazed, she’d not seen that coming, Honeybee was almost certainly her cat. Meeting her cat would entail visiting to her residency. Was this a subtle way to let her know that Maggie was open to the idea of living together? With that affectionate sparkle in her eyes, slightly anxious facial expression, and slight redness to her cheeks that would seem to be the case. That was plenty to process. “Hum.” Eliza contemplatively audiated. She was a bit worried about this part, what if ‘Honeybee’ hated her? What if she managed to mess something else up? Oh dear. Oh goodness. What if Maggie decided not to let her move in? Oh, even worse. What if Maggie stopped talking to her altogether? She’d seen Maggie in that section of the library before, and she’d recognized her, but never said anything until two days prior to this one. She’d never had the courage before. I mean, Maggie had plenty of people who followed her works, true, not an outrageous sum, but still, she had a name for herself, Eliza was just a nerd who plays at detective. Breath, breath, breath. It’s fine. Eliza promised herself she’d be fine. She may have been lying...  **Breath** . Okay. Eliza looked up at an expectant and increasingly nervous Maggie and nodded slightly. Maggie breathed out her relief in a gust of nerves and looked much more serene afterwards.

“Come on then, you’ve already finished your salade. I’m just done with my sandwich. Let’s call a waiter, get payment sorted, and head out.” Maggie resolutely uttered, ready to be on her way. They did just that, heading out faster than would have been anticipated from any other establishment. Maggie insisted on paying for Eliza’s meal, and after having overheard some chattering staff refer to them as “a cute couple” Eliza was too stunned by the universe to argue.

Eliza resolutely paid no mind to Maggie taking her arm and leading her to her flat which was, apparently, within walking distance. Eliza resolutely didn’t notice the light blush on Maggie’s face when she did this. Maggie resolutely didn’t blush when she, in a surge of confidence due to overheard chatter of being a perceived as a couple, took Eliza by the arm. Maggie resolutely hadn’t observed Eliza resolutely not looking at her. Resolutely, the two of them made their way to their, hopefully, future location of shared residence in the most platonic way possible. 

“Honeybee, I’m home!” Maggie called out to a charming and cozy flat as the two of them entered, Eliza’s arm finally falling from Maggie’s grip. Maggie was about to go look for her silly little feline when a small-ish bundle of cuteness, energy, and fluff skittered around a corner and across the floor at top speed to the sound of an excited Maggie shouting “High speed kitten!!!” with unnecessary levels of volume. Maggie met the fuzz-ball halfway and greeted her with soft coos of ‘Hey Honeybee.’, ‘My little drop of sunshine.’, and other assorted phrases, voice oozing with affection as Eliza looked on awkwardly from where she still stood at the door. Eliza was lost for what to do. She desperately wanted to keep Maggie in her life, but also the little being of pure softness a few feet from her was irresistibly adorable, flawlessly causing a swell of affection in her heart upon first sighting and she very much wanted not to mess things up with that lovely creature either.

“Erm...” vocalizing her discomfort, Eliza decided to collect herself and do as she normally would when acquainting herself with a small fluff creature. Slowly lowering herself to the floor, she began gently cooing cat summoning phrases in what she hoped was an affectionate and attractive tone. 

Honeybee, a friendly creature that was, rightfully so, shy around strangers, was strangely enraptured by this stranger. This new person certainly seemed kind. Possessing of a rather lulling voice, too. Honeybee hesitated for just a breath longer, glancing up at her caretaker before elegantly striding across the room to this alluring stranger, her tail gently swishing back in forth in the air in unhideable excitement. 

Maggie was genuinely surprised when her normally fearful Honeybee strode right up to Eliza, then proceeded to sniff Eliza’s palm-down outstretched hand and immediately butted her head against it for petting. When Eliza started petting Honeybee gently and Honeybee started crawling on top of Eliza as her new friend giggled joyously Maggie felt a swell of affection in her heart. Maggie wondered why she was ever worried in the first place. Of course they’d get along. Both of them chose  _ her _ of all people, they must have similar taste. 

After watching the heartwarming interaction for a few minutes she stood up and walked over to her couch, sitting down and patting the space next to her, calling to Honeybee who looked up excitedly and skittered over to her, awkwardly hopping up onto the surface and plopping herself down on Maggie’s lap after making sure she still made a proper pincushion. Maggie absentmindedly stroked Honeybee as she looked over to a beaming Eliza and made a beckoning gesture at her.

“Eliza, would you like to live here together? I can help you solve cases and we can look after Honeybee and... yeah. Would you?” Maggie tried to sound confident, but she was desperately trying not to pour out her heart too much. Eliza sat down in the seat next to her, reached over and petted Honeybee once, then retracted her hand to set it in the space directly next to Maggie’s idle one, turned to Maggie, brightly but nervously smiling, hopefulness dancing in her sky blue eyes, and spoke, in a warm voice, the mood of the room taking a sharp turn, the energy between them seeming to buzz.

“Yes, I think I rather would.” Eliza uttered quietly, almost as if she were afraid something would break if she spoke louder, gently nudging her pinky finger against Maggie’s, and both stomach’s swooped uncomfortably in unison, they smiled at each other.

“Good, then.” Maggie said, just as quiet, and perhaps a little dreamily. “Miss Eliza, do you have a girlfriend?” Maggie said maintaining the delicacy and volume, but with slight cheekiness slipping into her voice, having finally riddled Eliza out.

“Would you like me to?” Eliza gently shot back in playfulness.

“Depends.” Maggie definitely understood now. A silence set between them for a bit, both of them beaming at each other. Eliza was the one who re-started the conversation.

“Why, are you offering?” Eliza gently teased.

“Depends.” Maggie teased back.

“On what.” Eliza had a teasing tone even though she was starting to feel a bit uncertain about how this would actually go.

“Whether you would accept the offer or not.” Oh yes, that was good, Eliza could relax, it was all fine. 

“Yes, I think I rather would.” Eliza replied openly, teasing tone slipping away as she let herself be genuine, her hand slipping fully over Maggie’s.

“Good, then. Would you join me for dinner tomorrow?”

“Oh yes. Would you like to help me with this case? I could use you on it.” Eliza really did need Maggie, when Eliza ran off with a thought, Maggie gently caught her before she got too far, as evidenced by earlier.

“Oh yes. Would you be okay with it if I wrote about it later?” Maggie was sure that writing about Eliza would give her a never-ending supply of inspiration. Eliza would make a perfect muse for her writing.

“Oh yes. I love your works.” A smirk crept onto Maggie’s face at that, had she been on Eliza’s radar long before Eliza was ever on hers?

“Oh. Really? Are you a fan of mine, then?” Eliza smiled slyly at Maggie as she pulled out her phone and flicked into her notes on the case. She began to settle into reading off her notes and ideas about possible meanings and leads as Maggie listened along, nodding to things that she agreed with and pulling Eliza back to reality when she began to drift off from reality a bit. Maggie just  _ knew _ she’d have so much writing material later that day and on into the future.


End file.
